What a Difference a Day Makes
by Shona aka Mara
Summary: I really suck at summaries in case you hadn't noticed yet! Buffy gets a call which ends up changing her world
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own them, never will. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy still do. I'm just playing in a pretty big sandbox.  
Author's Notes: This kicked off as a fluff morning-after fic based on Jamie Cullum's version of "What a Difference a Day Makes" - but a plot bunny I've been trying to ignore ended up working it's way in so expect more soon!  
Spoilers: Post Chosen, picks up on Andrew's comments in Damage so I guess it's kinda spoilery for that as well.  
  


* * *

  
Soft notes filtered through the apartment and she found herself singing along even though she didn't really know the words. Something about the open intensity of the lyrics struck a chord with her and she let herself drift in the waves of emotion. From the kitchen came the odd sounds and pleasant aroma of freshly brewing coffee. She'd never been much good at making it but it looked as though this time was different, things seemed to be going her way for once.  
  
She looked around with a smile, taking in her surroundings. The apartment was one of those oddities – in the heart of the Medina it was a bastion of modernity. Pale wood flooring and gleaming white walls juxtaposed with the intricately carved shutters at the window. Sunlight was streaming through them casting oddly geometric shadows across the furniture that, even though it had been chosen primarily for appearance sake, was surprisingly comfortable.  
  
Her bags were still sitting beside the door where she'd abandoned them the night before. Idly she thought about putting on some of her own clothes but the soft cotton shirt she had borrowed from him was so comfortable that she balked at the thought of taking it off… well, at the thought of *her* taking it off that is. If he were here then she might think differently.  
  
Buffy smiled gently as she recalled the previous twenty four hours: the panic as soon as the call had come in saying he was missing; the frantic packing and the hunt for her passport whilst Dawn made the call to the airline trying to get her on a flight, any flight; the jitters at customs at Menara airport as she tried to convince the officials that the paperwork did in fact cover the antique axe she was transporting; the annoyance at the taxi driver who leered at her and hideously overcharged for the three mile trip; the frustration at the sheer lack of street signs and the filthy looks she was drawing from locals when she asked for directions; the relief at finally finding the Council building and the sheer and utter joy at seeing him as he opened the door to her.  
  


* * *

He looked incredibly tired and his hair was damp, she barely registered the fact he wasn't wearing much more than a towel as she flung herself straight at him, dropping her bags somewhere on the way. Instinct took over and he managed to catch her without sending both of them flying. Up until this moment she hadn't realised how much she depended on him to always be there - to catch her whenever she fell. It had taken the thought of having lost him to make her realise it and a flare of anger accompanied that realisation. She pulled away from him and hit him on the arm.  
  
"Don't ever do that again!" she registered that she was nearly yelling at him, something she'd done far too much of over the past seven years. The look of confusion and hurt on his face tugged at her conscience and the corners of his mouth turned down. She'd give anything to see him smile again but the anger coursing through her overrode that thought.  
  
"Do what? And can I just say, ow!?" He rubbed at his arm where she saw with horror a red hand-shaped welt forming where she'd hit him moments before.  
  
"Don't ever scare me like that again! Where were you? The Council have been trying to contact you for days now and you know you're supposed to check in with them every twelve hours!" He turned and walked past her to close the door.  
  
"Yeah, well it's not that easy to keep in contact when you're stuck in a cave in the back of beyond fighting for your life." The weariness in his tone stopped her outburst, as did the sight of the half-healed cuts and burns across his back. They were fresh, perhaps only a day or two old, and some of them looked deep enough to hint at infection.  
  
"Oh my God, what happened?" The anger had drained away and revealed the true emotion behind it – worry. She walked slowly up behind him and traced her fingers gently along the marks on his back. He stayed facing away from her and she could see the muscles in his back shiver slightly as her hand gently brushed across the skin.  
  
She gently began to knead the muscles there, avoiding the cuts and bruises, trying to work out some of the tension she could feel in him. He gave a tiny sigh and rested his forehead against the door, apparently too tired to give one of his usual quips he murmured, "Feels good." She stopped and stepped back, causing him to turn to face her. Crossing her arms in front of her she tried to keep a stern expression on her face as she met his gaze. Her head swam a little as she felt herself being pulled in by that look, such intensity…  
  
"What happened?" she repeated the question, quelling the churning in her stomach as it began to dawn on her what she was feeling. She did want to know the answer, she wanted to hear him tell her, she wanted to watch him as he spoke, to see those lips move, to feel their softness… She took a shaky breath as she realised where her mind was wandering to. Bad thoughts! Naughty Buffy thoughts! Focus!  
  
She looked up at him again, he was watching her with a quizzical expression now and she wondered briefly why she'd never noticed the warmth there before. The corners of his mouth turned up a little as he watched her and her heart lifted as that simple adjustment made him look more like himself again. She found her voice again.  
  
"Well?"  
  
He shook his head, "No, questions later, massage now?" There was a playful tone in his voice and was she imagining it or was there a hitch there? Was this just the normal friendly flirting or was there more to it? Her breath caught in her throat again as she considered the possibility that maybe - just maybe - the feelings coursing through her were mutual. Throwing caution to the wind she stepped forward again, never breaking their gaze she reached up to cup his head in her hands.  
  
Gently she brushed her lips against his, once, twice. She felt his shocked intake of breath and then suddenly he was kissing her with such intensity that it took her breath away. His arms came up to encircle her and she felt herself lifted off the ground as she gave into the embrace. She felt her own hands move independently of any instruction from her brain and roam down his back, over his arms, across his chest before again finding their way back to twine her fingers in his hair. She'd been right, his lips were soft and they were currently devouring her own with a passion she hadn't known for a long time. A moan of disappointment escaped her as they left her mouth but soon turned into one of ecstasy as they found the tiny spot just behind her ear that sent shivers right through her body. In an instant he was back, almost crushing her mouth beneath his and then suddenly he was gone. She opened her eyes slowly and saw him barely inches away from her with a look of absolute apology and horror on his face.  
  
"Oh God! Buffy… I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that. I haven't slept in days and I'm not thinking straight…" He stopped as she held a finger up to his kiss-bruised lips.  
  
"Shush." She stepped forward again, smiling a little at the wonder in his expression, "I think you're forgetting who kissed who first." Her voice had taken on a husky tone and she stalled any further comments by kissing him slowly and asking with one raised eyebrow, "Which one's the bedroom then?"  
  


* * *

The coffee was ready and as she poured herself a cup she realised that for the first time in years she was actually content. Sipping it slowly to savour the taste, she walked back into the living room and curled up in the armchair nearest the window. Sound drifted up from the market place below and she watched as the street vendors peddled their wares to unsuspecting tourists. Life was going on all around her and for the first time in years she felt part of it.  
  
Just twenty-four hours ago she'd been just existing. Participating in one of those annoying conference calls that Giles seemed to insist on more and more and trying to get on with everyday life in a strange city. Rome was undoubtedly beautiful, and Dawn was happy there at school but Buffy hadn't had any connection to it. Then the call had come, he'd been out of contact for days and there was no one else close enough – could she go?  
  
Now, a day later, and the business of just existing seemed to have been forgotten. She'd been reminded what it was to be alive again and all it had taken was an irrevocable change in the friendship she held most dear. Twenty-fours ago she wouldn't have done anything to change it, but right now she couldn't imagine living any other way.  
  
The front door opened and the smell of freshly baked bread filled the apartment, she breathed it in and looked up to see him coming in laden with shopping. He smiled when he saw her watching him and she found herself smiling back like a soppy teenager. She didn't care though, he made her smile, she could live with that. Standing, she stretched out her muscles and felt his gaze on her once more. She took full advantage and turning her back to him, she raised her arms above her head and stretched as far as she could, feeling the soft material of the shirt ride up her thighs.  
  
There was a thud from the kitchen as the shopping hit the floor and she felt his arms snake round her waist as he was behind her quicker than she would have thought possible. She tilted her head back to look up at him and smiled.  
  
"So you never did tell me." He looked puzzled for a second. "What happened?"  
  
"Well, let's see. I got out of the shower, opened the door, got hit with hurricane Buffy and do I really have to tell you what happened after that?" He grinned as she playfully hit him again. "Ow!"  
  
"Oh stop complaining you big baby!" She pulled away from him, ignoring the sudden sense of loss she felt at no longer being in his arms. "You know what I meant, what happened in that cave?"  
  
His expression glazed over and she saw remembered pain on his face. He turned away and sat down in the chair she'd recently vacated, obviously unsure of how to begin.  
  
"Hey." He looked up at the sound of her voice. "It's me. You can tell me anything Xander, you know that."  
  
He nodded, "Well, it's like this…."

_to be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Notes: I know, I'm evil. I wrote two versions of this, one where he tells her and one where he doesn't. I went with this one. *g*  
Disclaimer: Don't own them, never will - still just playing in that pretty big sandbox!  
  


* * *

  
  
The music drifted out into the hallway and he smiled a little as he realised she was trying to sing along with it. He'd never have thought he'd listen to jazz by choice but Giles had given him the CD for his birthday and he'd found himself unable to take it out of the player. Maybe it was cursed! A wry grin worked its way across his face as he realised that any normal person wouldn't automatically think something out of the ordinary was the result of a curse. But then, much as he liked to claim otherwise, he wasn't exactly any normal person – not after everything he'd seen and done.   
  
The CD skipped through to the next track and he heard her falter for a moment before picking up the new song. She didn't have the best singing voice in the world and she got the words wrong more often than not but he didn't think he'd ever heard anything so perfect. Just the thought that she was here, and that she apparently now saw him as something more than her Xander-shaped-friend made his heart skip a beat.   
  
And then the patented Xander Harris self-doubt hit him dead centre.   
  
It was a fluke, had to have been. He was no stranger to flukes after all so he was a little surprised he hadn't recognised it for what it obviously was straight away. She'd been worried, she'd been under a hell of a lot of pressure and she wasn't quite over her power trip yet – they all knew it, she clearly hadn't been thinking straight. It was the only thing that made any sense, after all, what were the chances that after nearly eight years of friendship she'd suddenly look at him in that way… that way she had the night before…   
  
Hell, maybe it was possible, after all *he* had. It had been a good few years since he'd looked at her as anything other than his best friend and one of the few people he would die for in a heartbeat. Sure, they'd been getting closer last year but then Dead Boy Junior had shown up and that particular train had been de-railed before it even left the station. It had been pretty clear after that that there was no room in Buffy's life for him in any role other than the sardonic sidekick. The fact that their growing closeness had begun a re-awaken of feelings he'd thought were long gone was irrelevant, he was her friend and that's all that mattered. But maybe, just maybe, things could be different now?   
  
No, who was he kidding, this was a fluke, a one-off and the only thing he could do now was hope like hell it hadn't ruined the most important friendship in his life. Besides, as soon as she found out what he'd learned she'd probably never speak to him again…   
  
Resolving to do his damndest to salvage that friendship, he took a deep breath and opened the door. She was sitting, sipping coffee, bathed in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Her feet were drawn up underneath her and her whole demeanour gave off a definite `cat that got the cream' vibe. God, she was beautiful.   
  
She looked up as he shut the door and he couldn't stop the smile that came to his lips. The smile she gave him in return confused him; it wasn't the smile of a friend, it was that of a lover.   
  
Spirits soaring at that thought, he turned towards the kitchen to put away the groceries he'd had to rush out to buy. From behind him he heard her stand, he glanced back and watched in amazement as she turned to face the window and stretched out like a cat, her shirt – no *his* shirt he realised with a start – riding up to reveal her lean, tanned legs. He had to touch her, he had no control and before he even realised it he was holding her again. She leaned back into the embrace and tilted her head a little to smile up at him and he found himself wishing he could freeze time. It was the perfect moment, the woman of his dreams was in his arms where she belonged and all was right with the world.   
  
And then she asked him the question he'd been dreading.   
"You never did tell me. What happened?" He tried to make light of it, tried to make a joke but she wasn't buying it. She pulled away from him and looked him in the eye. "You know what I mean. What happened in that cave?"   
  
He didn't want to tell her, he knew that when she heard what he had to say she would pull away from him completely. She'd doubtless think he was lying and even if she did believe him, it would mark the end of whatever this was and he really didn't want this to end.   
  
Sitting down heavily in the chair she'd recently vacated, he couldn't meet her worried gaze. He knew he'd been lucky to make it out of that cave alive and he still hadn't processed everything in his head yet. Was he ready to tell anyone about it?   
"Hey." He looked up and finally met her gaze. "It's me. You can tell me anything Xander. You know that." The concern on her face made his mind up. He had to tell her, he owed it to her to tell the truth, no matter what that might do to them.   
  
Taking he deep breath he began, "Well. It's like this…"   
  


* * *

  
  
Buffy knew that she loved her sister more than anything; Dawn was the very centre of her life and doubtless always would be. There were times, however, when she fervently wished all kinds of pain-filled deaths onto the youngest Summers. This was one of those times.   
  
It had clearly taken a lot of internal struggling for Xander to begin to tell her what had happened and then, before he'd even had a chance to say anything, the ringing phone had interrupted him. Dawn. Yup, sometimes she would gladly throttle her younger sister.   
  
"Hey Dawn Patrol, how's things?" Buffy found herself smiling indulgently at Xander as he rolled his eye a little as he spoke. "Yeah, she's here, I'm here, we're good." He listened for a second before breaking into a huge grin. "Anyone ever tell you you've got a real dirty mind for someone your age?"   
  
Buffy was on her feet in an instant reaching for the phone, just what the hell was her sister insinuating? Xander just laughed a little and moved away, using his height advantage to keep the handset out of her reach.  
"Huh? Oh nothing," he spoke into the receiver, "just Buffy getting her panties in a bunch." This time the laugh was much louder. "Dawn Summers! Wherever did you learn to talk like that!?" The change in Xander was marked, moments before he'd been vulnerable, almost a broken man and now, chatting and laughing with Dawn, he was instantly back to the man they all knew. A tiny frown creased her brow as she wondered at just how adept he was at switching off that kind of pain – or at least masking it. How many times had he done that in the past?   
  
He'd always been so worried about other people; dealing with everyone else's problems, and not one of them had ever really spared a thought for his. It had only been a few months since Anya's death and, while they hadn't been a couple for a long time before that, Buffy knew the grief he had to have felt. And yet not once had he shown it, instead he'd thrown himself into whatever project caught his attention.   
  
She smiled softly as she realised that her welfare had been one of those projects. He'd been there for her when she was struggling with the sheer weight of the future – for the first time since she was 15 she finally had options and she had no idea what to do with them. He'd been there for her; he'd encouraged her to follow her heart even when it led her away from them. Maybe he'd known that was only temporary, that she'd find her way back to them – to him. Never had he pushed for information, demanded to know what was going on, she owed it to him to be there for him in the same way. He'd tell her what had happened in his own time, if she forced the issue she'd only push him away and that thought scared her so much right at that moment that she couldn't breathe.   
  
She felt his gaze on her and looked up to see a quizzical expression on his face as he spoke to Dawn, "Yeah, look, d'you want to speak to her?… Okay, here she is – I'll see you soon." He handed the phone to her and mouthed "Are you okay?" She nodded and favoured him with a bright smile as she took the handset.   
"Hey Dawnie." She knew her sister hated that name which is why she called her it at every possible opportunity.   
"Why the hell haven't you called?! He's okay? When did you get there? What happened? Where was he?"   
"Dawnie, calm down. Sorry I didn't call before now but…" she paused for a second, trying to think of what she could tell her sister, then she grinned. "I was a bit tied up. He's okay, I got here last night, I'm not sure and ditto." Xander was still watching her with a concerned look on her face, she smiled reassuringly at him and mouthed "I'm fine!" before shooing him away. He stood for a moment, just watching her, before turning away and heading to the kitchen area. She was grateful for the opportunity to speak to Dawn in private, and she wandered across to the window to gaze down at the Moroccan market place while she listened.   
  
"Buffy? Are you okay? You're kinda quiet."   
"I'm fine Dawn, really. Better than fine actually."   
"Okay…" it was clear her sister didn't believe her.   
"Honestly, I'm fine. I've just got a lot to deal with right now, will you be okay on your own for a few days?"   
"So you're staying there then?"   
Buffy smiled, as if she could be anywhere else right now. "Yeah, for a few days anyway."   
"So did you finally wake up and smell the hottie then?"   
"Dawn!" She was shocked at the teasing from her younger sister, especially since she remembered using those self-same words a few years ago.   
"Well? Did you?"   
Buffy couldn't stop the broad smile that worked its way onto her face – nor did she want to. She turned to look into the apartment and watched as Xander retrieved the groceries from where they'd landed on the kitchen floor, all the while singing along to the CD oblivious to her watching him.   
"Yes," she confirmed softly, "I guess I did."   
  
She had to hold the phone away from her ear as Dawn's whoop of delight threatened to deafen her and she could see Xander look up as he heard it from the other side of the apartment. "About bloody time!"   
"Dawn, watch your language! You've been spending too much time around Giles, haven't you?"   
"Sorry Buffy it's just… what took you so long? Another year or so and I'd have made a play for him!"   
  
She was lost for words, was this really her sister talking to her? Aware that she was impersonating a goldfish, she forced herself to take a deep breath and was about to bawl out her sister when Dawn interrupted her.   
"By the way, Giles arrived last night with Andrew, they've got something to tell you, does that place have a speaker phone? Xander'll probably want to hear this as well."   
Buffy looked around for the base unit and checked, "Yeah, hang on a second I'll get Xander." She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and whispered "Giles is there, he wants to tell us something." She laughed as he rolled his eye and pantomimed shaking his head frantically. Giving him no option she hit the button and said, "Okay Dawnie, we're here."   
  
Instead of Dawn, it was Giles who spoke next, "Xander? I'm glad to hear you've turned up safe and sound. I trust everything's under control?" Buffy frowned at the odd question but before she could say anything Xander answered from beside her.   
"Yeah, I guess. I'll get a report to you as soon as I can."   
"Excellent. Well, onto other matters…"   
"Now wait a minute!" Buffy couldn't stop herself, "Don't you want to know what happened? He's been hurt Giles, don't you care?"   
"Xander's hurt?" It was Andrew's tremulous voice which solicited another eye roll from both Xander and Buffy this time.   
"I'm fine guys, really. Just a few cuts and bruises." Xander replied while Buffy pointedly ignored the muttered comments from Dawn about how rough Buffy was on men. "What were you going to say G-Man?"   
"The retrieval of the newly identified Slayer was successful. Her name is Dana, she's a very disturbed young girl I'm afraid. We've had doctors examine her and they say she should recover eventually, but it will be a long time, if ever, before she's capable of accepting any kind of training as a Slayer." Giles went on to explain the history of Dana's psychosis and some of the treatment she'd gone through before becoming a Slayer.   
"She's in the best place, Giles. She's got the support of all of us now, we'll get her through this – won't we?" Buffy's tone had softened considerably as she listened to the sorry tale of her sister Slayer.   
"Yes, of course."   
Giles paused for a moment, prompting Xander to ask, "Giles? Is there something else?"   
The Englishman cleared his throat and Buffy could swear she heard him clean his glasses. "Yes, I'm afraid there is. Buffy, I don't quite know how to tell you this…"   
He didn't get the chance to try as Andrew interrupted with an excited shout of "Spike's alive!"   
  
Buffy felt her jaw drop, there had been rumours of course, but she'd not let herself pay any attention to them. Spike had done a lot for them, he'd died for them, he'd proven he was worthy of her faith in him; but ultimately he was part of the past she wanted to put behind her. With encouragement and guidance from everyone around her – especially Xander, she realised – she'd taken a step back, she was no longer The Slayer. She was Buffy Summers, and Spike's death had been a huge part in that change. Now, if what Andrew was saying was true, what did that mean for her?   
  
A thud from behind her startled her, and she turned quickly to see knuckle-shaped dents in the wall and Xander absently clenching his hands into fists.   
"Buffy?" Giles' voice echoed through the room, "Are you alright? What do you want to do about this?"   
"Yeah, I'm here." She watched Xander, trying to gauge his reaction. His jaw was clenched and he was clearly trying not to say anything. "I think… I think I should go see him."   
  
His face like thunder, Xander turned and walked out of the apartment without saying a word.

_to be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

Title: What a Difference a Day Makes – 3/?  
Author: Shona  
Rating: PG I guess, maybe PG-13?  
Disclaimer: Don't own them, I wish I did, but for now I'm just playing in a pretty big sandbox  
A/N: Huge thanks to Sam, I haven't had any of the parts of this story betad until now because, to be honest, it's so close to my heart that I didn't want to let it go, I'm so glad I did for this part - especially for the laugh you gave me with the yellow text Sam! I seriously was on the floor laughing at that! I decided not to cut any of the third part btw, I just love Rose so much that I couldn't bring myself to do it! Sorry for the delay in getting this part written - RL and not-so-good-health intervened...  
Okay, on with the fun!  


* * *

  
"Are you sure that would be for the best?"  
She barely registered the question as she watched the door close silently behind him.  
"Buffy? Are you still there?"  
Shaking her head quickly she focused on what Giles was saying.  
"Um, yeah, I'm here. I don't know if it's a good idea, but I think I should see him. Thank him."  
"I understand that, but perhaps there are other factors to take into consideration. From what Andrew tells me it seems Spike's quite settled in Los Angeles, has been for a while, and yet he hasn't contacted you or any of us. Maybe he's not ready for it yet."  
"I guess..." She didn't know how to finish the sentence.  
"Xander? What do you think?"  
"He's gone Giles, he left a minute ago."  
"Oh. I see." She wondered if he really did see. Could he hear the confusion in her voice? Did he understand where it was coming from? Giles had always been the wisest person she knew and was highly perceptive most of the time. But this thing, this whatever it was she'd found with Xander, this was something she hadn't seen coming.  
Could she really expect someone on another continent to appreciate the turmoil in her mind? Especially with so much unsaid?  
  
No, he didn't see, he couldn't. He was just being Giles and she missed him terribly.  
  
"Perhaps you should talk to him about it. You may find Xander has something pertinent to add after his recent fact-finding excursion."  
She frowned, there it was again - Giles clearly knew more about Xander's recent adventures than she did, but the only way that was possible was if the two of them had planned this on the quiet. Which also meant that Xander would have known he'd be in danger. And yet he'd gone anyway, just like always.  
"Huh?" She tried playing it dumb even though she knew there was little chance of Giles falling for that, not now.  
She was right - he didn't buy it. With a sigh he said simply, "Talk to Xander. See what he has to say."  
  
Quite clearly she wasn't going to get anything more from Giles and she needed to actually be in visual range for the puppy dog eyes to work. The message she was getting loud and clear was that Xander knew something that might relate to Spike's current situation and the only way she was going to find out what was to ask him outright.  
  
As she said her goodbyes to Giles and promised to call Dawn later on to tell her `everything' (like that was going to happen!) she reflected that it wouldn't be a problem talking to Xander about whatever it was. She was so over the non-communication thing now; the only downside to the plan was that she had no idea where he was.  
  
Everything she'd read about Morocco had indicated that the centre of Marrakech was not the best place for a lone American tourist. Especially not a lone American tourist who also happened to be a young woman.  
  
She shuddered a little as she remembered the openly lecherous stares the cab driver had given her on the way here the night before. Going out onto the streets would undoubtedly bring more of the same. Still, needs must when the devil drives and all. Smiling, she realised that it now apparently took little more than a five-minute conversation with Giles to have her speaking like him. Just as well it didn't work in reverse, she could just imagine Giles' reaction if he ended up `mangling' the English language in the way he accused her of doing all too often.  
  
Feeling a little more positive, she searched through her bags looking for the guidebook she'd bought at the airport. Finally finding it, she opened up the "handy pull-out map" thinking she'd like to one day meet the person who thought this gigantic piece of multi coloured paper was "handy" if only to actually see the size of their hands.  
  
If there was one thing she missed about US cities, hell even Sunnydale, it was the easy to follow grid layouts. Rome had proven to be a confusing nightmare of back streets, alleyways and covered walkways that had taken a lot of getting used to. The friendly folks at "Lonely Planet" apparently realised this and had produced a plethora of guides to the city that made it pretty much impossible to get lost.  
  
  
Not so for Marrakech. The map before her showed a multitude of twisting, inter-connecting streets that looped back on each other continually like a ball of string. And that was in the modern part of the city! She didn't want to think about the blank area on the map where the cartographers had apparently given up and settled for the word "Suuq" instead of actually mapping it. Instinct told her that was going to be exactly where Xander would head. All in all it wasn't a very promising start to the day.  
  
Sighing heavily, she gathered up the map along with the remains of her fast-fading courage and headed for the door. The sooner she found him, the sooner she could get this mess sorted out.  


* * *

  
The sounds of the Jemaa l-Fna market place were overwhelming. He watched as vendors touted their wares to unsuspecting tourists. One girl in particular seemed to be drawing a lot of attention as she wandered around the huge market place with a wide-eyed look of wonder. Various items of jewellery were thrust towards her along with leatherwork and sample photographs of Mendhi. She was trying her best with the polite refusal approach but Xander knew from experience that politeness didn't count for much here. Sure enough, rather than taking the hint and leaving her in peace, the street sellers continued their assault with renewed vigour. The small group soon caught the attention of others and in the blink of an eye she was surrounded.  
  
He briefly considered heading over to help her out but the bright smile still on her face convinced him that she wasn't exactly hating it. In fact, chances were pretty good that she was loving every minute of it and would be telling her friends all about it for months to come.  
  
A wave of envy washed over him as he realised being clamoured over in the market didn't even feature in the most memorable events of his time in Africa. Oh no, he had the much more interesting stories of midnight forays into war-torn countries recovering from years of drought and famine whilst on the trail of some long-forgotten legends of mystical warrior women.  
  
They weren't exactly the kind of stories you told at dinner parties. There was never going to be a time when he'd regale near-strangers with tales of how he'd single-handedly run away from the Acis demon in the middle of the Sahara. Derisive laughter bubbled up in him at that thought - hobbled away after taking the beating of his life came a lot closer to the truth. He'd been more than lucky to get out of there with his life, especially after what he'd found out about the last visitor to the caves before him. Andrew's little bombshell had proven that he hadn't escaped; the Acis had let him go. The question was, why?  
  
A commotion from the centre of the square dragged his attention back to the present. The girl he'd spotted earlier was no longer smiling. The press of people around her was growing by the second and Xander had to squint to see her in the centre of the group. The growing fear in her expression propelled him to his feet and before he had a chance to think about it he was at her side.  
  
Gently, trying not to spook her any more than she already was, he placed one hand on her lower back to guide her and used his other hand to push against the throng clamouring for her attention. She jumped a little at his touch but allowed him to help her out of the crowd.  
  
As soon as they were clear, he dropped his hand and took a step back so as not to intimidate her. He needed have worried as she turned to him with that huge smile back on her face. To her credit, there was barely a flicker when she saw the eye-patch. Her expression was definitely infectious and he found himself grinning along like an idiot.  
"Thanks, I think you just saved my life. Or at least my bank balance!"  
There was a lilt in her voice that he found it difficult to place, British he thought, but not English. "I'm Eilidh by the way."  
He shook her outstretched hand with the smile still plastered across his face. "Xander is me… uh, I mean, hi, I'm Xander." Wow, one smile from a strange girl and suddenly he regressed back five years. Wonders never ceased.  
She raised an eyebrow, "Xander? Unusual name isn't it?"  
He laughed at that, "You should meet my friends. And anyway, I could say the same for Eilidh couldn't I?"  
"Touché." If it were possible her smile widened.  
"Well, Eilidh. I think we scared them away." She glanced around and saw he was right, most of the vendors had moved on to other targets and there were only a few shadowy looking men in brown hooded robes loitering nearby.  
"Thanks to you."  
"All part of the service," he touched the first two fingers of his hand to his forehead in a mock salute. "Looks like you're safe now. It was good to meet you." He turned to walk away but stopped as she laid a hand on his arm.  
"Wait, please. The least I can do is buy you some tea. I mean you did rescue me, in some cultures that would make us as good as married." There was a glint in her eyes and a playful tone in her voice.  
  
He weighed up his options, go back and have the painful conversation he knew he couldn't avoid with Buffy; or spend ten minutes pretending he was normal. So he was selfish, sue him. After the last few days he figured he deserved some normality. He grinned at Eilidh and said "Lead on."  
  
He had no chance of seeing the small group of robed figures off to their left watching them go with interest.  


* * *

  
Dammit! How was it possible to get lost within two minutes of stepping out of the door? No. She wasn't lost. That just wasn't something that happened to Buffy Summers. She might, from time to time, be a little situationally misplaced, such as now, but she was never lost.  
Oh, who was she kidding? She'd taken what had looked like a shortcut to the main square and had ended up following a twisted path which took her past at least ten rug stores before she finally began to suspect that it was actually the same store that she'd just walked past for the tenth time. Frustrated she stopped and pulled out the guidebook again, angry that she was failing so miserably at the simple task of getting from A to B.  
  
Leafing through the pages, she supposed the book might have been of some use if there were anything even remotely resembling street signs - or even proper streets - anywhere around her, but there was nothing.  
  
She was still in the tourist area; that much she could tell from the various groups who wandered past gawping at the intricate patterns on the rugs hanging outside that damned store. Realising she didn't really have any other option, she tagged along behind one largish group of mostly British tourists on the grounds that they would probably eventually end up back in something resembling a normal street from where she could get her bearings.  
  
A few of the people in the group eyed her warily; apparently they'd also heard the horror stories about pickpockets and were trying to see how this petite blonde girl fit into the stereotype. Keeping her expression open and her hands in plain sight, she spoke quietly to the middle-aged woman beside her.  
"Excuse me? I got separated from my group - would you mind if I come with you guys until I find them again?"  
The grey-haired woman smiled widely at her, the relief at hearing the American accent obvious.  
"Oh you poor thing! Of course we don't mind, dearie. We'll get you back to your friends in a jiffy! Clifford!" This last was aimed at a balding man a few steps ahead, he turned to see what the fuss was about. "Clifford, this little girl's lost her friends. She'll be coming with us for now so you just keep an eye out for her."  
Rebelling both at being called a little girl and the thought of Clifford looking out for her, Buffy found it a struggle to keep the smile on her face. She managed it and gave silent thanks to the hours of practice the Homecoming pageant had given her.  
  
"So where are you from dearie? And what brings you to Africa? I must say it's been quite a culture shock for Clifford and me. Hasn't it, Clifford? Clifford? I said hasn't it been quite the culture shock?"  
Clifford grunted non-committally and Buffy could feel the muscles in her face begin to ache already as she kept the falsely bright smile on her face.  
  
Fifteen minutes later and Buffy knew the entire life story of Clifford, his wife Rose, their son James and the never-ending feud with the Galloways next door who insisted on growing those awful Leylandii trees despite what the council had told them. Buffy had been forced to suppress a giggle at that one, she'd suddenly gotten an image of Giles in stern-face mode telling someone to cut down a bunch of trees.  
  
Without warning, the walkway they were on went through an archway and widened out into the market square. Relief washed over her as she spotted the street the Watchers' Council's apartment was on. She was still no closer to finding Xander but at least she was no longer lost herself. She turned to thank Rose and Clifford and found herself face to face with a snake.  
  
She let out a tiny scream and was about to drop into fighting stance when she saw the grinning face of the man holding the reptile out to her.  
"Camera? You, pretty girl, photograph?"  
She opened her mouth to refuse but before she could say anything she found herself being pulled away and Rose's voice saying loudly "No. No camera. Come on dearie, you can't trust these fellas. That could have been poisonous or anything! Are you all right dearie? Did he give you a scare?"  
Again struggling to keep the laughter contained, Buffy shook her head, "Oh no, I'm fine, He just startled me."  
Rose patted her hand and she really had to fight against the ire being patronised always caused in her.  
  
"Do you see any of your friends?"  
"My friends? Oh... right..." Buffy was at a loss, Rose had obviously decided to take the helpless American girl under her wing, and it was going to be difficult getting away from her without finding another group she could pass off as her tour party.  
  
She cast around, looking for any likely party and was rewarded when she spotted a group of obviously American tourists in eye-hurtingly bright clothing. Sometimes her fellow-country folk depressed her.  
  
She was about to point them out to Rose so that she could make good her escape when out of the corner of her eye she spotted him. Xander.  
  
It was the eye-patch that caught her attention first of all, but the sight of him with his head thrown back in laughter, that confirmed it. It had been far too long since she'd seem him laugh like that, but there was something undeniably Xander about it.  
  
"Is that your young man then?" She started a little as Rose spoke and realised that the older woman was following her gaze.  
"Huh? Oh. What makes you think that?"  
"Please, dearie. I'm a mother, there's some things we just know." She smiled, "I just hope some day some girl looks at my James in the same way you're looking at...?" she looked at Buffy expectantly.  
"Xander." She supplied.  
"Xander? I don't know, you Americans and your odd names. Tell me what's wrong with good old-fashioned names like Liz or Alex?"  
  
This time there was no keeping the laughter down. It bubbled out of her like a fountain of mirth. Rose looked from her to the laughing man across the square and commented, "Well, you're a good match anyway. Now go get him before someone else makes off with him. He's quite the catch."  
Buffy smiled her thanks and nodded, "Yes, he is isn't he?" She found herself thinking back on all the times he'd stood at her side, supporting her always.  
  
He'd been part of who she was for so long now that she honestly didn't know if she could function without him. What had happened between them had happened because it was the next logical step in their relationship. If she hadn't been so self-involved over the past year or so, she realised, she might have seen it sooner instead of focusing on her uneasy relationship with Spike.  
  
The smile dropped from her face instantly. Spike. She had to find out what Xander knew and talking to him about it was going to hurt them both. It might even drive a wedge between them that could never be removed. She'd almost forgotten the animosity that had existed between the two men.  
"Are you all right dearie?" Rose's question brought her out of her reverie. "I wouldn't worry about her if I were you, I'm sure your fella's only got eyes for you." A rather tasteless joke flicked its way through her mind but Buffy's internal censor stopped her from saying it aloud.  
"Her?" She realised what Rose had said and looked at her in confusion. Glancing back across at the café Xander was currently in, she realised for the first time that he was sharing his table with someone. An attractive, brunette, mid-twenties and ultimately female someone.  
  
As a bitter taste formed in her mouth, Buffy acknowledged the irony in the fact that mere moments before she'd been considering the possibility that Xander would be jealous of Spike. It seemed she had her own green-eyed monster to deal with.  
"Oh." She forced a brightness into her tone that she didn't really feel. "Well, thanks for everything Rose. I hope you enjoy the rest of your time in Morocco." She was a little surprised when the older woman drew her into a hug; from her experience the British weren't known for being the hugging kind.  
"You too, dearie. Now," she stepped back and smiled, "Go get your man." Buffy smiled and nodded. Her man. There was something very comforting, very right, about that phrase.  
  
Setting her shoulders, she took off across the square towards the café. About halfway there, she became aware of someone keeping pace with her and in her peripheral vision she caught sight of something that made her blood run cold.  
  
It couldn't be. Not here, not now.  
  
She froze for a second before realising he wasn't after her. Instead the robed figure was headed directly for her target. Straight for Xander and his mystery companion. She watched dumbstruck as the figure drew a wickedly sharp knife from the belt of robe and broke into a loping run which belied his blindness.  
  
A Bringer.

_tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who's given me such positive feedback on this - I adore this story, and I'm so glad other people seem to like it! Sorry it took so long to update - the end of the chapter has actually been sitting on my hard drive for quite a while now - it just took me a while to get the rest of it written! Anyways, on with the show...

* * *

Time seemed to slow almost to a standstill as she took in her options. Moments seemed to stretch into hours as plans of action were considered then dismissed. She had no weapons with her, an error she should never have made – it was a rookie mistake – so she would have to improvise.  
  
The robed Bringer was headed directly for them at full speed but she felt like she had an eternity in which to prevent it.  
  
Her focus narrowed onto her target and she barely noticed Xander turning to see what the commotion was. She missed the shocked recognition on his face; but saw the grim determination and the sheer resolution there as he stood to face the oncoming threat in a potentially futile attempt to protect a near stranger.  
  
She resolved that the attempt would be anything but futile. After all, she wasn't exactly helpless herself. Squaring her shoulders, she stood to face the latest threat to her world.

* * *

Buffy's eyes widened in shock as she watched the brunette with Xander stand in one fluid movement that hinted at years of training. He too was on his feet, facing the oncoming menace, and she knew instantly that she wouldn't be able to get there in time to prevent an attack.   
  
Tuning out the shouts around her, she urged an extra burst of speed from her already tired muscles. Too little, too late however and she could only watch in horror as the Bringer got there first. Her focused battle vision let her see in exquisite detail the curved knife being drawn back before plunging straight for its intended target – Xander. Not allowing herself time to think about the implications of that, Buffy launched herself towards the trio, knowing she was still too far away.  
  
Apparently from nowhere, a foot connected with the Bringer's wrist, knocking the blade from its grasp and forcing the attacker into an uncontrollable spin. Buffy's vision tracked right to see who'd intervened. The new girl was poised with balletic grace, ready to fight. So she'd been right, this girl was a warrior, and from the force behind that kick, chances were good she was a Slayer.  
  
The Bringer recovered quickly and rushed forward once more. The girl's foot lashed out in reflex. It caught the Bringer in the solar plexus, doubling it over. She followed up with a knee to the head and her opponent was writhing on the floor by the time Buffy finally arrived on the scene.   
  
Adrenaline was coursing through her system, giving her already heightened senses a further boost. A flicker of movement to her left caused her to spin to face another Bringer. Buffy swore under her breath as she remembered these guys usually appeared in groups of two or three.  
  
Letting instinct take over, she vaulted the table between her and her target, her fist already flying. She winced a little as it connected with his jaw. After all this time, she was well aware that a punch to the face was likely only to result in a broken hand on the part of the person throwing the punch.  
  
Luckily she seemed to have gotten away with it this time. Instead, the robed figure's head twisted from the blow and he staggered back. Buffy's foot was moving without any input from her brain and the high kick caught him directly the jaw snapping his head back at an unnatural angle. The accompanying crack sounded deafening to her ears, and before she could follow up the kick, he crumpled to the ground in a dead heap.  
  
Satisfied that he was no longer a threat, she quickly scanned the area for any more likely attackers before turning back to see Xander and the new girl holding their own against one last Bringer.  
  
Buffy stepped forward to help just as the other girl's hand chopped out in a vicious karate-style blow, catching the Bringer unawares. It stumbled backwards, clutching at its throat and struggling to breathe. Its erratic movements took it straight into Xander's path and he grabbed for the knife still sheathed in its belt. With a chilling look of determination on his face, he drove the knife deep into his opponent's chest. Straight for the heart.  
  
Buffy let out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding and stepped up to stand beside him. He was shaking and staring at the bloody knife in his hand. Gently, she spoke his name and laid her hand over his.  
"It's okay, it's over." She murmured.  
  
He didn't look at her; all his attention was focused on the prone figure at his feet.  
  
His reaction puzzled her; he'd been in countless fights and killed more than his fair share of vampires and demons over the years and never before had she seen him so shaken by it. At a loss as to what to do now, she stood helplessly at his side. Finally, he took a deep breath and whispered, "this one's for you, Ahn."  
  
An irrational stab of jealousy drove into her. She'd only found out afterwards that Anya and Xander had been heading towards some kind of reconciliation. She knew that he still loved his thousand-year old bunny-hating ex-demon. Anya would always have a place in his heart and, truth be told, Buffy wouldn't have it any other way. Maybe this final act of retribution would help him see it was okay to move on, to live again. Maybe.  
  
Standing in silence, she realised that by focusing on Xander's pain, her own had quietly faded away. She hadn't really let herself dwell on the past, she had lost a staunch ally when Spike had sacrificed himself, but she was under no illusions. It wasn't love, it never had been on her part, and given the fact that he was back and hadn't found a way to tell her, it didn't seem to be the case for him either.  
  
What she'd told Angel was still true – Spike was in her heart, his unquestioning support of her had helped her through some pretty dark times. He'd helped her believe in herself again, but even that support paled in comparison. The man standing beside had not always supported her, he had questioned her decisions in the past, he hadn't followed blindly; she realised now that that was a far more precious thing to her and she wondered yet again why she'd been so blind to it in the past.  
  
Gradually, she realised he'd stopped shaking. Glancing up at him, she saw a faraway look on his face. She wondered briefly what he was thinking, and even whether she had any right to wonder, until he looked down at her and smiled.  
"It's over," he said simply, handing her the knife and turning away from the slowly cooling corpse of the Bringer. It wasn't Anya's killer, there was no way that one had made it out of Sunnydale, but the hive-mind mentality they'd discovered the Bringers shared meant that it was close enough. Anya was avenged.  
  
Buffy watched him walk away and was amazed at how much lighter his steps were. The grief he'd been carrying had obviously been weighing him down far more than perhaps even he had realised.   
  
Taking a leaf out of his book, she made the decision to lay the ghost of her relationship with Spike to rest. It had been something she'd needed at that point in her life but the fire had been too bright and too hot. It had burned its way through two years, destroying a lot in its path; it was time to let it die out. He was back, but that no longer mattered to her, her life was her own now and it was Xander who had helped her realise that.  
  
A few steps away, Xander paused to pick up his jacket from where he'd left it hanging over the back of the chair and Buffy frowned as she saw him tense suddenly and look around.  
"Eilidh?" he called out.  
  
The brunette. Buffy suddenly realised she hadn't seen the girl since Xander had killed the last Bringer. If she really was a Slayer and there were Bringers around, they needed to find her. Fast.  
  
Instantly, Buffy felt the adrenaline burst again and her senses ramped up as she scanned the growing crowd of shocked onlookers gawping at them and the two downed attackers. Two? Damn! The first Bringer must have recovered.   
  
Her keen hearing picked up on a scuffle in a side street off to her left and she sprang into action immediately, vaguely aware of Xander following hot on her heels.  
  
She sprinted down the empty side street in silence, listening for anything that would narrow down her search. There, a muffled scream followed instantly by the thud of a Bringer-sized body hitting a stone wall. Buffy skidded round the corner to see the girl, Eilidh, standing over the prostrate figure of the thing that had tried to attack her. This girl had to be a Slayer; she nodded to Buffy as she drew her foot back to aim a kick at the robed figure. A crash from behind Buffy startled them both and Buffy spun to see Xander extricating himself from a water-seller's cart. Smirking a little at the typically Xander clumsiness, Buffy turned back to the alley.  
  
The smile dropped from her face instantly as she saw the Bringer had taken full advantage of the distraction to regain its footing. Buffy let fly with the knife she was still holding and barely registered it finding its mark. The Bringer keeled over backwards with the blade buried to the hilt in his throat. All of her attention was focused on getting to the girl as fast as possible. Eilidh was staring at her in shock. The red stain rapidly spreading across the front of her blouse was the only indication the Bringer had gotten near her.  
  
Abruptly, she sank to her knees and clutched at her belly, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Buffy was at her side in an instant and held her steady as she checked the injury. It looked bad.  
  
"Go get help!" She yelled to Xander who immediately ran back in the direction of the main square.  
  
"C'mon, stay with me!" She urged the girl, feeling a deep connection with her. "Don't give up on me."  
The girl smiled weakly, "Nice to meet you, I'm Eilidh."  
The surrealism of the mundane introduction made her laugh. "Hi Eilidh, I'm Buffy."  
Eilidh choked a little as she seemed to laugh, Buffy tried to hide her shock at the trickle of dark blood that escaped from the corner of the girl's mouth.  
"Buffy? Really? What is this, the weird name convention?" She chuckled a little before gasping in pain. Her eyes glazed over a little. "Thank Xander for me. And Buffy? Thank… thank you…" Eilidh's head lolled to one side and a long rattling breath escaped her.  
"No!"

* * *

Gently, so as not to wake the traumatised girl, Buffy pulled the door closed.  
"How's she doing?" Xander asked in a near-whisper.  
"She's sleeping now. She lost a lot of blood, if she is a Slayer she'll pull through but if not…" she let the sentence tail off. There was no point finishing it, they both knew how it would end.  
  
Absentmindedly she rubbed at her hands, she was still covered in blood, something that was all too often the norm for her. Abruptly she realised she couldn't move her hands. Looking down in confusion she saw Xander holding her wrists, stilling them. Her eyes widened as she saw the fresh scratches scored deeply on her arms.  
  
"Buffy?" She lifted her head and met his worried gaze; "You're not going all Lady Macbeth on me are you? You have to know this wasn't your fault, there was nothing more you could have done."  
"But I…" she began.  
"No. No buts, you can't be everywhere at once, you can't save everyone." There was a catch in his throat at that. "You said it yourself, she's most likely a Slayer and she will get through this. You'll see."  
  
She nodded slowly, not wanting to accept it but knowing that he was right – she couldn't have done anything differently.  
"I'm just…" shakily she drew in a deep breath. "I'm just not used to being helpless" she finished in a small voice.   
He smiled sadly at her and drew her into a warm embrace. "I know," he breathed into her hair as she finally relaxed against him. "I know."  
  
He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. What he was sure of was that the last of the sunlight had gone by the time he felt her stir a little and lift her head. Looking into her eyes he could see acceptance there. Gone was the manic glint that had chilled him to the bone as she'd torn into her own skin, oblivious to what she was doing.  
  
"So," her voice was so quiet but it filled his universe. "I guess we should talk."  
Here it came, the conversation he couldn't and wouldn't avoid. "Yeah," he answered in a resigned tone. "I guess we should."  
  
She turned away slowly and headed towards the seats in the lounge area. After a moment's hesitation, she switched on the table lamp and sat in the centre of the wide couch.   
  
The invitation was obvious and he could see the subtle power play going on here. She'd set the ground rules and where he chose to sit would inevitably set the course of the conversation.  
  
Pausing only for a second to allow his sight to adjust to the change in lighting – it seemed to lot longer for that now, ever since… no. Don't think about that; the past is gone, focus on the present. He followed her across and perched on the coffee table directly in front of her. Close enough that his knee brushed against hers when he let it.  
  
"What happened?"  
He raised an eyebrow. "Huh? When?"   
"Last night. Between us. What happened?" That threw him, of all the possible topics of conversation he hadn't seen that one coming. He was finding it hard to read her right now and that was confusing. She'd always been an open book, even when she'd kept her secrets he'd known she was doing it. This new inscrutable Buffy was unsettling.  
"Um. Did you hit your head or something? 'Cause amnesia probably isn't as fun as it looks in the movies you know."   
She smiled a little before forcing her expression into that blank page again. "I know what I think happened, Xander. What I want to know is what you think it was."  
  
So she was giving him the out he'd thought he wanted. All he had to do was lie and say it was a fluke and they could go back to normal. But he didn't want that now – if he was honest with himself he never had.  
Slowly, deliberately, he spoke. "Buffy, you are my best friend and I never ever want to lose that." He lowered his gaze; if he was going to lay his heart on the line he didn't want to her see her reaction until he'd said his piece.   
"Last night I was pretty much at my lowest. I was hurting, tired and beaten down and then this amazing vision appeared at my door and I knew I was dreaming because she was here, and she kissed me and it was a moment of bliss. I know I was dreaming because we made love and it was everything I ever dreamed it could be. And then I woke up to find I hadn't been dreaming. I know I was pretty messed up last night, but one thing I am sure of. Something changed in me and I fell for you. That's what happened. I love you, I always have and always will, but last night I fell in love with you all over again."  
  
Finally, prepared for the worst, he looked up at her. There were tears shining brightly in her eyes and he had the oddest impression that she was glowing. Gently he reached forward and brushed the dampness from her cheek.  
"Your turn."  
  
She nodded briefly and started to speak, not once losing eye contact. " A long time ago, a couple of lifetimes back, someone told me they wanted more from me than I could imagine ever giving to anyone. I was too young and too blind and never even gave it a second thought. Until last night.  
You are part of me, when I thought I'd lost you it was like I'd lost an arm and then there you were and my heart started beating again. That's when I knew losing you was more like having my heart torn out. We've known each other for so long. You've seen the worst of me."  
"And the best." She blushed a little at the soft interruption and continued,  
"And you've always been there through it all. We've faced a lot over the years…" A bright smile suddenly lit up her face. "Xander? We've fought a lot of blood-sucking fiends, and that's all been a good time, but I want more."  
  
He rocked back on the table; she was echoing his words from so long ago. Somehow he'd thought she would have pushed that part of her life out of her mind as quickly as possible.  
  
She looked directly at him, "I wanna dance with you."  
For the first time in years, he was lost for words. Feeling like an idiot he leaned forward and took her hand, never once dropping his gaze from her incredibly expressive eyes.  
"Are you sure?" He waited for her answer with bated breath, but it didn't come.  
  
One thing he'd always known about Buffy was that even though she was good with words, she was better with actions. Before he realised what was happening she leaned forward and captured his mouth in a kiss with which she obviously intended to dispel any doubts he may have.  
  
Her teeth grazed lightly along his bottom lip and he parted them in compliance. Almost lazily, her tongue entered his mouth and began to explore the territory there. Not willing to simply let her have it all her way, he actively deepened the kiss and drew her closer to him so there was barely any space separating them.  
  
She moaned into his mouth and a burst of electricity coursed down his spine at the sound. He was lost in sensation; taste, touch. Intuition told him what to do and the appreciative moans and whimpers coming from her told him he should definitely trust that intuition in future. Buffy was giving as good as she was getting and he soon found he couldn't keep any thought other than 'Buffy' in his head.  
  
Eventually, regretfully, the need for oxygen became too great and although his heart would have died happy right there, his body overruled him and forced him to come up for air.  
  
"Wow." Was it he or she who said it? He didn't know, maybe they both did.  
"Jeez guys, if this wasn't your place I'd tell you to get a room!"  
They looked up in tandem and he took a split-second to wonder exactly when he'd moved onto the couch.  
"But since it is your place, want your room back?" Eilidh was standing in the door of the bedroom, one hand clutched protectively over the wound in her side with a huge smile on her face.  
  
A weight he hadn't noticed he'd been shouldering lifted when Xander saw the much-recovered state of the newest member of Slayers Incorporated. She looked a little spooked but that was understandable; after all, some eyeless freaks had tried to turn her into an Eilidh-kebab. He'd have been worried if she'd been fine about it all.  
  
"What are you doing out of bed?" Buffy asked, "You should be sleeping! We… we didn't wake you did we?" He looked down to see Buffy's face had turned the cutest shade of red as the question tumbled from her lips.  
Eilidh shook her head laughing lightly, "No, don't worry – you were the souls of discretion. I was just thirsty and I didn't want to interrupt but…" She gestured around, wincing a little as she moved. "I don't know where anything is so…" She shrugged apologetically and Buffy was on her feet in an instant.  
  
Xander watched as the two girls made their way to the kitchen. Truthfully he was marvelling at how quickly Buffy had fitted into his life here. She'd been in Marrakech for less than a day and already she knew her way around the apartment like it was the back of her hand.  
  
Eilidh was moving a little slowly, obviously still in pain but covering it well. She still had that air of agile grace he'd come to associate with Buffy and Faith, however she lacked a little of the coiled spring alertness that was constant in the longer-serving Slayers.   
  
Something about that thought didn't sit well with him. He thought back to how she'd handled herself during the fight in the square. She'd moved in the manner of someone who was comfortable with her abilities and knew her limits. That alone marked her out from all the Slayers they'd encountered since the mass activation during the final fight in Sunnydale; those girls carried themselves carefully, in awe of their new strength. Eilidh on the other hand exuded the kind of self-confidence that came from having grown into her abilities.  
  
She'd obviously undergone some training as well, maybe nothing more than self-defence, but she'd definitely developed a style of fighting that took years to master. He wondered what her story was and whether Buffy realised there was more to this girl that a wide-eyed, newly-called Slayer.  
  
A frown creased his brow as he remembered that Eilidh hadn't been the Bringers' target – in fact they'd pretty much ignored her until she'd gotten into the fight. Yeah, so she'd been injured, but the cynic in him wondered just how serious that injury actually was.  
  
Whose side was Eilidh on? 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes:** I'm so, so, so sorry for the huge gap between this and the previous part. I wrote most of this whilst watching the finale of ER - that's how long it's been sitting on my computer waiting for me to finish it! My muse is back though, so fingers crossed the next part will be ready a lot quicker!

* * *

Buffy finally felt her embarrassment begin to fade as she pulled a carton of orange juice from the huge refrigerator that she wasn't in the slightest bit surprised to see was fully stocked with a staggering amount of junk food. She found it oddly reassuring that despite everything that had changed, some things remained the same. Reaching for the glasses stored in a nearby cupboard, she started a little when Eilidh spoke from behind her.  
"So how long have you two been together then?"  
"Nearly eight years." The answer was automatic and she didn't think anything of it until she turned to see the other girl raising her eyebrows in surprise.  
"Really? You guys still seem kinda…" She reached for the perfect word, "New, I guess."  
  
Buffy coloured again as she realised what she had said and her first reaction was to back-pedal furiously but she stopped herself with a small smile and elaborated, "Yeah, we've been together eight years. It's just that neither of us knew it until a day ago."  
"What took you so long to figure it out?"  
The very question Buffy had been asking herself all day.  
"Oh, you know how it is. You meet someone, you like him, you call him one of the girls." Eilidh's eyes widened as she imagined Xander's reaction to this tiny blonde calling him a girl. Buffy nodded laughing and continued, "another guy comes along and even though the first guy saves your li… butt a few times, you can't see past tall, dark and handsome." Perfect description of Xander, Eilidh thought but kept it to herself, not wanting to interrupt Buffy's train of thought.  
"A lot happens, but not much changes really," the blonde carried on. "Except tall dark and handsome leaves and eventually not-so-tall, peroxide and passably cute comes onto the scene. Through it all, the first guy's still there, still saving your li… butt and never asking or expecting anything in return. And then one day, suddenly, he's not there and you get this horrible glimpse of what life would be like without him, and you realise how blind you've been all along…" Buffy trailed off into silence with a wistful smile. "Sorry, sometimes I ramble, I picked that up from a friend." She shrugged a little, "I guess the answer to your question is this: I have no idea. Anyway, I'm hungry, want something to eat?"  
  
That earned her a laugh from Eilidh, which in turn drew her out of her growing maudlin state of mind as she re-evaluated her life with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight.  
  
Eilidh helped out and they ended up making a huge pile of sandwiches, laughing and joking the whole time until Buffy felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She turned to see Xander still sitting where she'd left him on the couch. He wasn't watching her, however, he was following Eilidh's movements carefully and she frowned a little as she saw suspicion on his face. She wondered at that and realised it was one more thing to add to the ever-growing list of things they had to talk about and soon.  
  
Three sandwiches each and an hour or so later and Buffy could feel the conversation beginning to flag. They'd carefully skirted around any topics that might bring the mood down. The culmination of the past day's worth of worrying, travelling, worrying, fighting and then worrying some more was finally taking its toll on her. Before she could say anything, however, Eilidh piped up with, "Sorry to be a party pooper, but I really have to get some sleep." She yawned widely as if to emphasise the point and they both saw her try unsuccessfully to hide the wince of pain the movement caused her. "So, can I crash on your couch?"  
"Oh yeah right, you're sleeping on the sofa when you've got a gaping knife wound in your side? That'll look really good on my 'New Man' resume."  
Buffy snorted a laugh, "Uh, Xand? I don't think they call it a 'New Man' anymore – you've gotta get with the times, dude."  
He looked stricken then said in all seriousness "And this from a chick who just used the phrase 'get with the times, dude'?" He shook his head and sighed in mock despair. Ducking, he almost but didn't quite manage to avoid the pillow Buffy threw at him.  
"Did you just call me a 'chick'?"  
"Okay, you're right. Sorry, I shouldn't have called you a chick. Someone as short as you is more like a chicklet."  
She rolled her eyes, "You've been watching that film again haven't you?"  
The confused look on his face was almost convincing. Almost. "What film?" The sheer innocence radiating from him was let down by the glint of evil in his eye.  
"Just because Willow said that guy with the stupid name looks a little like you doesn't make it a good film." Suddenly Buffy found herself thinking that maybe it might be worth watching it again, after all the one time she watched it she remembered the lead guy had spent a lot of the film shirtless…  
  
Realising where her mind was wandering off to, Buffy blushed a little and forced her attention back to the conversation at hand.  
"Hey! Did you just make a comment about my height?"  
He shrugged at her, grinning a little. "Hey, if the shoe fits… speaking of, how do you find shoes to fit with feet so little?"  
  
There was an outraged shriek and Buffy launched herself at him with fingers splayed. Eilidh watched with a grin as a tickling match ensued, Buffy hadn't been exaggerating earlier – they'd been together a long time.  
"Right, well I'll take the bedroom then. Thanks." She could have sworn there was no way either of them could have heard her over the giggles and shrieks but they stopped instantly.  
"G'night Eilidh. If you need anything just shout." Buffy grinned up at her and Eilidh found herself smiling back automatically.  
"Yeah, night Eilidh." Xander's tone was a little more reserved that she'd heard from him earlier, but perhaps he was just worried about her. After all, she had taken what seemed to be a mortal wound and had lost a great deal of blood.  
  
She turned her smile to them both and headed for the bedroom feeling a little light-headed. As she reached the door she turned slightly to see them talking together quietly, trying not to disturb them further she pulled the door gently closed.  
  
"Wanna tell me what's wrong?" Buffy kept her tone low to keep any hint of anger or frustration from her voice.  
"Yes, but not here. Not now." She hadn't expected him to agree so readily, she'd thought she'd have a struggle getting him to tell her about whatever it was that was bugging him. "Why not? Where else is there?"  
  
He stood quickly, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. "Let's go for a walk, the walls have ears." He looked pointedly at the closed bedroom door, under which they could both see the shadow of someone standing directly on the other side.

* * *

The night air held a chill that was actually welcome after the dusty heat of the day. There was an easy silence as they walked across the square now lit with the aid of torches adorning the walls of the cafés and stalls on all sides. Notable by their absence were the glaring neon and fluorescent signs that filled most of the piazzas in Rome. Buffy finally had the chance to take in the sight and sounds around her without the overriding panic and worry.  
  
It wasn't often that she had this opportunity to stop and really appreciate the world around her. That was something she had promised herself that she would take the time to do after Sunnydale and yet it hadn't worked out that way. When she and Dawn had first arrived in Italy, they'd planned on exploring but Council business kept her busy for the first week and by the time she was free, Dawn had enrolled in school and quickly been surrounded by nice, normal friends. It was almost as if once she was away from the Hellmouth's influence, the former Key had blossomed into a social butterfly and Buffy had no desire to play the tag-along older sister.  
  
She'd tried hard not to let it bother her – she threw herself into her work for the Council until she was simply too busy to be lonely. Now though, she realised just what it was she'd been denying herself. She watched him covertly as he gazed out across the ruins of the Almoravid mosque towards the magnificent Al Koutoubia Mosque built to replace it when it was discovered the original was improperly aligned with Mecca.  
  
The parallels with that work and the rebuilding they themselves were doing didn't escape her. She loved the work she was doing now, helping to rebuild the Council. Mentoring girls who were terrified of who they had become, afraid to be themselves. That all gave her life purpose, there was no denying that, but right now, standing here with Xander, her life felt complete.  
  
Grinning a little at how sappy that sounded in her head, she turned to face him and rested her elbows on the railings now behind her. He looked so serious, so lost in thought that she tried to lighten the mood a little.  
"Whatcha thinkin'?"  
His focus snapped to her and he smiled gently, "I dunno. I just…" he paused to collect his thoughts. "I've been here on and off for six weeks. I've walked past this place so many times I've lost count, but I've never really 'seen' any of it, y'know? Sure, I've done the whole tourist thing, seen the mosque all lit up like this, but I never really appreciated it 'till now. I guess I was just too busy." The smile widened into his typical lopsided grin, "Or maybe it's the company that helps me see it in a new light."  
"Smooth, Xan. Very smooth." In truth she was surprised to hear her own thoughts echoed like this. This man never ceased to surprise it seemed and now that she was seeing him with a new appreciation she recognised that if he was genuinely worried about something then there was a good reason for that.  
  
It was clear that for whatever reason he didn't want to tell her everything, but she now had a new weapon in her arsenal to pry the information from him. She turned on the charm.  
"So talk to me. Tell me about the caves and what happened there. Tell me why you dropped out of contact and tell me why you don't trust Eilidh."  
  
He didn't move for the longest time and she began to wonder if he'd heard her or if he was getting lost in his own thoughts. Eventually, he looked at her and sighed.  
"This isn't going to be easy, Buff. If I tell you all you want to know you're going to hear a lot of things you don't want to. You have to know I would never hurt you. I'm not making anything up to hurt you or to score points. It's all true. Do you trust me not to lie?"  
  
The expression on his face was one of beseechment but there was no need, she knew in her heart that he wouldn't lie to her. Not able to find the words to convince him of her belief in him, she nodded mutely. He looked away for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before re-establishing eye contact.  
"It all starts with Spike." 

_to be continued..._


End file.
